


Fault

by lastrisorto



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Pariston being Pariston, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Unhealthy Relationships, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:40:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25798300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lastrisorto/pseuds/lastrisorto
Summary: Pariston goads you into slapping him.
Relationships: Pariston Hill/Reader
Comments: 8
Kudos: 43





	Fault

Your date with Pariston Hill had been, in a word, idyllic. You had been seeing him exclusively for a few months, and he was easily starting to work his way into your heart. He was always so thoughtful, helping you pick out what to wear each time the two of you went out. Suggesting foods you might enjoy off of every menu. Ordering them for you because, as he put it, “You’re too elegant to be bothered with talking to servers.” You always blushed at the flattery, but took objection to him implying that anyone could possibly be beneath you, socially. If anything, you were occasionally self-conscious about how you didn’t have much clout to speak of, either in terms of birthright or profession. But Pariston assured you, and you had always agreed, that it didn’t matter. That wasn’t how you thought of things, after all, and it was a little jarring to be occasionally reminded that Pariston led a life of more privilege than you could possibly imagine. But when he took your hand and led you to the bedroom of his high rise apartment, laying you on his soft bed and making love to you in the sweetest, most intimate way you’d ever been with someone, you couldn’t help but feel like maybe you had misjudged him. There was no way a man so gentle, so thoughtful, could look down on anyone. That was a few weeks ago. 

Tonight, the two of you had enjoyed a candlelit dinner in an upscale restaurant, par for the course, followed by a brief appearance at a gallery opening. Pariston paraded you on his arm, you glittering in your slinky gold dress, almost as much as his wide grin at the appreciative stares you both earned. When Pariston stepped away to get the two of you another round of drinks, the gallery owner came to check on you, making sure you were enjoying yourself. A handsome man, his greeting was brief, and he had already moved on by the time Pariston returned. You thought little of it, as the two of you made your exit shortly after, and took a brief ride to Pariston’s place. When he opened the door to his apartment, he surprised you by pinning you against the wall, capturing your lips with his own in a warm, passionate kiss. You returned it, winding your arms around the blonde’s neck and leaning into the feeling of his lips moving against yours. After a moment, Pariston pulled away, and you smiled happily up at him, running your fingers down the sleeves of his expensive suit jacket to hold his hands in yours. 

Pariston smiled back down at you, a gleam flickering through his warm brown eyes. 

“My dear, you were so charming tonight.” He drew you in to hold you against his chest, swaying slightly as if still hearing the quiet string quartet at the art gallery. You leaned your head into his chest, snuggling against the soft fabric. Your boyfriend definitely knew how to make you feel good about yourself. Appreciated. Could you call him your boyfriend? Was it too soon? You smiled, swaying in time with his slow dance.

“So pretty in your dress. Drawing everyone’s eye. Such an appealing whore.” You froze, stiffening. You didn’t lift your head from his chest. Surely you misheard. Surely, over the steady thrum of his heartbeat, you misunderstood the words as they reverberated through his ribs and into your ears. Surely.

“Did you like making half the men in the gallery want to fuck you?” Ok, that, you definitely didn’t mishear. You pulled back, looking up at the blonde questioningly. You were sure the hurt was evident on your face. When had you ever given him reason to doubt your loyalty? You hadn’t been dating that long, but you still hadn’t seen anyone else in the time you’d been together. He leaned in to speak closer to your ear, his hands flexing, tightening their grip on your sides to keep you from pulling further away. His voice was low, barely a whisper.

“If I hadn’t kept you by my side almost all night, how many would you have sucked off in the bathroom, or an alley out back? Because that’s all you’re worth, right?” Holding you in place, Pariston stroked soft circles into your hips, his hand movements confusingly incongruous with his cruel words.

“Wha-what? You know I would never-”

“Are you going to cry, now that I know your secret?” Pariston looked down at you with that same glint in his eyes, his smile mocking as he dug his thumbs painfully into your hips. You wanted to leave. You wanted to know why he was treating you like this. You wanted to get out of his grip, but he wouldn’t let go. You _needed_ him to know how much he was hurting you. 

Without thinking, you reeled back, bringing up your hand to slap Pariston’s smirking face. The sting to your palm snapped you out of your mental catalog of wants and needs, and the man’s eyes widened, his grip on your hips loosening as he brought one hand to rest against his reddening cheek. He quietly murmured your name in disbelief.

“Why would you hit me?” Pariston’s voice trembled a little as he pulled away from you, brown eyes narrowed as he backed away from you. You followed him instinctively, making placating gestures as you tried to reassure him.

“Oh, God, Pariston, I’m _so_ sorry! Are you okay?” His own accusations temporarily forgotten, you were entirely focused on making sure you didn’t actually hurt him. 

“I can’t believe you slapped me. That’s so… _barbaric_.” You felt the warmth of shame creep up your cheeks. After all he had done for you, all the nice places he took you to, after how completely _civilized_ he’s been the whole time you’ve been together, and you’d hit him? 

You tentatively closed the distance between you and Pariston, trying to gently examine his cheek, but he kept moving his head, evading your probing fingers. His hands caught your wrists, gently pressing you downward as he smiled suddenly.

“I suppose I can forgive you, but you’ll have to make it up to me. Show me I’m right. Show me what you would have done to every man who looked at you tonight.” He stopped pushing when you were settled on your knees, releasing your wrists and unzipping his pants. You were surprised when he pulled out his cock, already hard in his hand. 

“Pariston, I wouldn’t-”

Pariston pouted slightly, gently running his hand through your hair with his other hand. 

“We both know that’s not true.” With that, he pulled you by the hair toward his cock, and you reflexively opened your mouth to receive it. You wrapped your lips around the head, swirling your tongue over the tip to taste the precum beading there before bobbing your head to take more of his length. You weren’t given much time to work him over on your own, before he started using your hair to hold your head in place as he thrusted into your mouth. Pariston didn’t stop when the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat, instead angling to fuck into your face. You tried to relax, but you couldn’t help gagging around his length as tears began to form in your eyes. Pariston took your mouth roughly, but not particularly fast. As he slowly thrusted, each movement making you acutely aware of how difficult breathing was becoming, he looked down at you, his smug smile breaking only to release a soft hum of pleasure as he closed his eyes for a moment. 

Pariston pulled up on your hair, yanking you off his cock. You could barely get your feet under you as he dragged you by your scalp to his bedroom, releasing you with force so you fell onto the bed. He was being so much more rough with you than usual, understandably you reasoned, but you were growing as wet as you did when he took you in his usual gentle manner. He stood there, staring at you as he stroked himself, and you looked down to avoid the heat of his gaze.

“Pull up your dress.” Pariston ordered you as he advanced, watching as you hiked up the hem of your dress. Reaching you, he hooked his fingers into your panties, pulling them down and then off. 

Pariston unfastened the button on his pants, pulling them halfway down, but not taking off any of the rest of his suit. Leaning over where you reclined on the bed, he lined himself up with your opening, pushing in with no preparation. You whimpered a little at the sensation of sudden fullness, but as he dropped to his elbows on top of you, setting a slow, deep pace, the discomfort quickly turned to pleasure. 

“You’re enjoying this, I see. You like it when I take you like the easy trash you are.” Pariston’s insult was punctuated by a particularly hard thrust, and you moaned quietly as the head of his cock bumped your cervix. You hated that he was being so mean to you. Why could you feel yourself clench around him? Why was there the familiar tightness of orgasm building in your abdomen? Pariston leaned back, slipping his manicured hand between your bodies to rub slow, sweet circles over your clit, finding a rhythm he knew would get you off quickly before leaning back down to murmur cruel lies into your ear. _You’re so easy. You’re such a good whore for me, even if you would let anyone do this. It’s almost hotter that you would. Mm._ As he ground his hips against yours, you felt the tension in you snap. You rode out your orgasm under him as he continued to fuck into you, your cunt spasming around him as he continued to chase his own release. 

Pariston’s hips stuttered as his filthy whispers turned to low, pleasured noises, and with a few uneven thrusts, he spilled himself deep inside you. Pariston collapsed on top of you, before pulling out and rolling to lay next to you. As the aftershocks of your orgasm began to ebb, and the facts of the situation began to sink in, you felt your eyes start to tear up again. Pariston rolled onto his side, leaning up onto an elbow to regard you.

“What’s wrong?” He reached out, brushing a tear away from your cheek. You turned your head, meeting his concerned eyes.

“I...you said…” You couldn’t string your thoughts together into a coherent sentence. Pariston smiled sympathetically, before drawing his lips into a little “aww.”

“Oh, darling, couldn’t you tell I was joking? And then I was only giving you grief after you overreacted and slapped me. But don’t worry, I’m not mad that you hit me. Shh. It’s okay.” 

Pariston gathered you in his arms, gently running his hands over your back and sides. You settled into his embrace, unsettled by how glad you were that he wasn’t angry.


End file.
